Coming to terms

My mood has been pretty good, a little manic but well managed by the lithium.  More like, a little mania sticking out from under the giant blob of lithium, in my head! 

That's good, my old manias were horrifying things, full of hatred, drama, hostility towards everyone, cats hiding from me, Ron fleeing from me and hiding in his room, paranoid, obsessive, hostile, and miserable. 

For a while, I wondered why God had allowed me to suffer so.  After all I'm a Christian.  I have endeavored to keep the 10 commandments and make pleasing Him my #1 job, since Ron's accident.  Why me? 

Days like today, I understand.  I pay a horrific price tag for sanity.  I have very limited energy.  I'm only "good" for about 4-5 hours a day.  Then I need a nap.  Then I'm sort of OK for another hour or so.  I have roaring attacks of the stupids.  I can't think.  My brain is full of pink fog.

I have a hard time even finding the words for what I want to say, at least when I'm talking.  Happily, I express myself better in text. 

While trying to google "Roaring attack of the stupids" - I am the only result found, I completely closed this window!  Thank God Blogger saves my work, literally every minute. 

So, I prayed about it - I thought "Maybe I'm sick".  I don't believe so.  This is my price tag.  Hell of a price. 

I had a hard time thinking and talking today, and Ron was very kind about it.  He asked if it was the medication and I said yes.  He wondered aloud if I could reduce my medication. 

I reminded him of the old me, him "running" (hobbling) down the hall as fast as he could and hiding in his room, me getting all paranoid and obsessing about the neighbors or whatever, and "Heather the Hatchet" - my old Ham radio handle before I got really bad. 

"How long would that take?" he asked helpfully. 

"About 36 hours".  He paled. 

Now I have to say Ron has been completely awesome lately.  The other day, we went to the warehouse.  I lost our reciept.  He was very nice about it. 

The old Ron would have had a lot to say, for a couple of days.  My Ron just said "You're doing your best" and dropped it completely. 

I've had other instances like that at work.  Nothing egregious, like leaving a vending machine open, but definitely what Ron would have called "Sub level" mistakes. 

The way he saw it, in the past, people had acceptable mistakes, like knocking over a cup of coffee; and "sub level" mistakes, like losing a business receipt.  Not anymore.  He was really great. 

It's hard enough dealing with the illness and the side effects, without someone shouting at me.  God has worked on Ron and given him the empathy we both need. 

Thanks, Lord.